Turnabout Kidnapping
by DocumenteKaze232111
Summary: A sudden crime has Prosecutors, Defense Attorneys, and Detectives alike scurrying against the ticking clock to save a central part of their tight-knit family from certain destruction. Part One of Five of the CONDEMNATIONATIONS and COUNTERINSURGENCIES Series. Takes place nines years after GS4. Rated T for descriptions of violence and forms of abuse.
1. Absense That Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

**CONDEMNATIONS and COUNTERINSURGENCIES :**

**Part One of Five : **Turnabout Kidnapping

**Chapter One - **_Absence That Makes the Heart Grow Fonder_

Ema Skye hated those little teasing remarks of his. She hated his "devil-may-care", flirty attitude, his reckless, innuendo-throwing personality. She hated his casual German; she hated his _Detectiv,_ his _musik_, his _gitarre_, his _auchtung_- and she especially hated his _liebe_ and his _Fräulein_. She hated his teasing, she hated him stealing her prized fried snacks- her precious Snackoos. She hated his impossibly, mesmerizing blue eyes that he always used on her, his stupid, platinum-blonde drill-hair, and she hated his always-too-flashy, toothy smile. She hated the sound of his musical, talented voice, and she hated those stupid fan-girls that heeded his every selfish beck-and-call like dumb, trained puppies.

"_My feisty Fräulein, how are we this lovely morning?"_

"_I'm not your anything, you insufferable fop- now get your hand off of me!"_

"_Ahahaha- so cruel, liebe- ach!"_

_Snackoo'd._

She hated all that and so much more about that glimmerous fop of a boss she had the misfortune to worm under- at least, she _had_ hated him.

Ema often thought how it was the strangest thing, how everything had turned out- the moment those way-to-familiar nicknames, those not-so-funny teasing and jokes, and that stupid, boyish, immature grin of his suddenly disappeared, when he had suddenly- well, _grown-up_- she had missed them.

He still _smiled_, but it was empty.

He still _teased_, but it was half-hearted.

He still _joked_, but those were dark, even cruel.

He still _laughed_, but it was so bitter that Ema could hear its acid.

Ema had missed all those previously unbearably annoying, suddenly unceasingly endearing traits of his. For all her denials and her insults, for all the Snackoos and that fiery temper she threw at him on a daily basis, Ema Skye had missed the real Klavier Gavin. He had made her life just that more bearable, because he soothed that burning numbness that she had felt since the moment she laid eyes on that **FAILURE** notice the Forensics Department had sent her way- but more than that, he, and he alone, could soothe that horrible, lonely ache that came hand-in-hand with her upfront, unintentionally direct and abrasive personality with that light-up-the-whole-city smile of his and a light-hearted, goofy conversation.

Never before had that old saying, "_You never know what you have until it's gone_" had more meaning.

And that was why Ema had decided to try and thaw the ice that had suddenly entered those impossibly blue eyes of his- not just for her sake, but for his; for she saw that the darkness that had awakened inside of him during that damning trial was strangling him. At several points, she had feared for his health, his sanity, even his life.

"_You can't keep doing this to yourself, Klavier. It'll kill you."_

"_**What is it to you, Detective? Good goddamned riddance, then, ja?"**_

He had, of course, fought her, every step of the way, going so far as to threaten to fire her, to threaten harassment claims- now that Ema had found ironic, the pot calling the kettle back, considering she had once threatened the same to him- and even turning in his own Prosecutors' badge. But she fought him, she fought him tooth and nail, and somehow, after months and months of lashing out, of struggling, she managed it.

She managed to shatter that wall he had built around himself- all with one, simple poem she wrote, on the spur of the moment, when things were at their lowest point:

"_**Ema, this- … You wrote this? This is…"**_

"_I know, I know- it's clichéd and crappy- "_

"_**Nein, it's… It's perfect, meine Liebe. It's… Simply beautiful…"**_

"_You think?"_

"…_**No one has ever… Do… Do you really feel this way?... About… Me?"**_

"_I meant every word I wrote, Klavier."_

"…_**Danke, Ema. Thank you."**_

When she had finally broken into that barrier of his, Klavier, in a fit of unparalleled sadness and horrible rage, told her things about his brother, Kristoph, about his family- about himself- that Ema hoped never to have to repeat to another living soul- those details were better left buried with his condemned elder brother. He showed a part of himself he would never, and could never, show the rest of the world- and Ema had, at the end of Klavier's speech, accepted him- she held him as though he were a newborn.

"_**I can't do this anymore. I can't… Keep hiding."**_

"_You don't have to- at least, not with me."_

And now, almost a decade after that single, indescribable evening, Ema Skye watched as her husband of almost seven years strummed his apple-wood guitar, murmuring a soft song whilst, in typical fashion, quite a reasonable crowd had gathered around him to listen- Ema, however, stood to his immediate right. Seeing him smile that wide, toothy, _real _smile of his, was truly a sight that melted her heart, each time she saw it- and nowadays, that was often. When Klavier finished the song, he laughed as the crowd clapped in appreciation and turned to her, kissing her and telling the crowd, laughing that trademark laugh of his, exclaiming all the while, "And that is my brand of special magic, ja, meine Liebe?"

Ema could not help but laugh at his goofy expression, simply nodding and returning the quick, chaste kiss one of her own. They were both smiling like fools, but- such a perfect moment- who could resist-

"Hey! There are kids in the room, ya know!"

The married couple was jolted out of their moment by a loud, laughing voice, and they turned around to find the crowd- previously having been watching Klavier perform; now watching them, all with amused expressions on their faces. The two did not break apart- Ema simply blushed furiously while Klavier planted another kiss on her forehead, in the midst of exasperated groans and silly noises.

Ema and Klavier were guests in the Wright family apartment, celebrating yet another amazingly successful magic show put on by the adopted daughter of world-reknowned Defense Attorney Phoenix Wright, Trucy- all grown up and running her own troupe of magicians. Also in attendance was Thalassa Gramarye, Trucy's biological mother, the seasoned Defense Attorney Apollo Justice, Trucy's half-brother, Vera Misham, who was invited to come along tonight by a very nervous Apollo, the Chief Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth and his longtime wife, Ema's own elder sister, Chief Detective Lana Skye, Prosecutor Franziska von Karma, who had left Germany and all its memories behind for good years ago, and Larry Butz, a good childhood friend of both Miles and Phoenix. The party continued on with laughs and great feeling all around as though they were a single family- and they were.

In the past ten years, with the hard-earned changes to court systems across the globe, the bonds they each had nurtured and forged with the others had grown strong, turning several separate families into one single family. They each supported each other, shared each others' pain and happiness- just like any other real family would. For many of them, this makeshift, oddly-put-together family was all they really had left in the world- and each and every one of them were grateful for the chance to be a part of it.

**Do, do, do, do, do,**

**Dee, dee, dee, dee, dee, deeeeee…**

**Do, do, do-**

The familiar ringtone startled the room into silence as Klavier, seemingly just as surprised the rest of them, took his cell phone from his pockets and answered with a cheery, "Hallo? This is Prosecutor Gavin speaking." There was a pause, in which Klavier's expression slowly became serious. The expression on his face caused a shiver to crawl up Ema's spine- it reminded her just how much control over his emotions Klavier really had. He spoke again, saying into the receiver, "Ja?... Ja, I can do that…. Nein, let us not be so hasty- ja. Of course I will… Ja. I can be there in just a few moments."

Klavier closed his phone with a soft clicking noise. His expression was unreadable.

**:: • :: | :: • ::**

Ema Skye returned to the home she shared with Klavier Gavin just after midnight. After Klavier had suddenly been called away on business, she had wanted nothing more than to go home and rest- a wish that was fulfilled by her amused elder sister. _"Goodness, Ema,"_ Lana had scolded her playfully, _"One would think you only came to the party just to see Klavier play his guitar." _

That explanation was not quite right, but it had been nice, Ema admitted to herself. Klavier had been so tied up with work lately that she had not heard him play his guitar, and to have heard it tonight, if only fleetingly, was such a treat, and it had put her into a great mood. She hummed her way into the house, and was absolutely unsurprised when two children- a little boy and a little girl- barreled into her just as she got into the door.

"It's her! Mommy's home, mommy's home!" They sung joyously, dancing around her and giggling giggles only very young children could. As she greeted her children, ruffling the boys' hair and the girl by the ceremonial high-five, their baby-sitter, a young college student by the name of Wocky Kitaki, strode up the corridor leading to the front door. He was smiling at her- both in greeting and in relief to see her return.

"They were good this time, Mrs. Skye," He told her, whilst Ema picked both children up- one in each arm, "No trouble to speak of- well, unless you wanted them in bed at a reasonable hour, anyway." The boy had grown up quite a bit since their first meeting, a decade ago, in which he had been a suspect in a murder Klavier had been prosecuting. Now, he was quite a stunning man- his hair had grown out and turned red, and he wore quite an impressive set of designer clothing to go along with his designer sunglasses. He had helped his father turn their name around, and had reaped the benefits of doing so.

"Nah, that's fine. The little stinkers were probably too hyped up whatever Klavier gave them for dinner to sleep for you." And considering Klavier did not know the difference between salt and sugar, it was probably true. How he survived without her and her amazing cooking… "Anyway, how much do I owe you, Wocky?"

After paying Wocky the extremely fair price of forty dollars even, she put both children down and pointed to the stairs. They obeyed her immediately- Klavier had taught them, so young, to obey their mother, thankfully enough- and she watched them high-tail it up to their respective rooms, before following after them.

The two children were fraternal twins, which had come as quite as a shock to both Ema and Klavier. Zane- the shy one and a total mommy's boy- had inherited his fathers' impossibly blue eyes and platinum blond hair, while Alice, the sweet, and rowdy girl, a total daddy's girl- had inherited Ema's sleek chocolate brown hair and green eyes that put the color of the spring grass to shame. Zane already had aspirations to become a Defense Attorney, and Alice wanted to become a rock star. Both dreams were fully supported by their wildly amused parents. Both were five years old, Zane being older by just a few minutes.

Oddly enough, it had been Klavier that had eased into the role of being a parent the fastest, despite his initial anxiety at the idea of becoming a father.

"_**Liebe, imagine- me, a father. I don't know if I can- "**_

"_Don't even start. You'll do amazing, fop. All that energy of yours; you'll be a natural."_

And how right she was- both children adored him, and their mother, too.

Ema decided to enter Alice's room first; and, lo and behold, it was an utter hurricane in there. Books, CD cases, papers, toys, crayons, Klavier's old Gavinners' necklace that he had given to her as a birthday present last year, a potted plant named Claire, blankets, pillows, notebooks, posters, board games, coins, an electric piano, a guitar- all of these things and much, much more littered the room. She was Klavier's daughter, after all was said and done; the proof was in the scene in front of Ema; Alice was already in bed, dressed up in her pajamas, grinning at her mother. Her room was decorated in old _Gavinners_ posters.

"Ready for bed, then, Alice?" Ema asked her, and when the little girl nodded, Ema turned out the lights. Ema turned around and, just across the hallway, was Zane's room. When she entered it, it's stark contrast to Alice's room made her blink- everything was neat, put away, clean; too clean, in fact- even Ema had never gone to such lengths to keep things clean.

"_Did you ever- as a kid- ?"_

"_**Nein, I did not. Kristoph, however…"**_

"…_You and I both know-"_

"_**I know."**_

"Ready for bed, champ?" Ema called into the room. Zane sat up, rubbing his eyes. Ema entered the room and knelt at the foot of his bed, smiling softly and ruffling his hair again. Zane smiled tiredly.

"Mom?" He had, according to Klavier, inherited his father's childhood voice, before he put it through the training needed to become a singer. It was naturally soft, kind- Ema had long since wondered just what kind of training turned that kind of voice into- well, Klavier's kind of voice.

"Yeah?"

"Where's dad, mommy?" Ema smiled even brighter- Zane was much, much more observant than his sister, and much more intelligent than even she or Klavier could even understand. Ema kissed him good night, and slowly stood up and backed out of the room as Zane yawned heavily and turned over.

"He'll tell you," She told him softly, "When we see him tomorrow."

There was a pause.

"Promise we'll see him tomorrow, mommy? Promise me we'll see dad?"

"I promise."

And then she turned out the lights.

**:: • :: | :: • ::**


	2. Coincidences

**CONDEMNATIONS and COUNTERINSURGENCIES :**

**Part One of Five :** Turnabout Kidnapping

**Chapter Two –** _Locked Doors and Not-So-Coincidental Coincidences_

Lana Skye and Miles Edgeworth had been married for just about half a decade now- almost five years. Those with a keen mind would have noticed several years' difference between her marriage and her younger sister, Ema Skye's marriage to Klavier Gavin, and, to their justified curiosity, would have found that the latter had, in fact, tied the proverbial knot before her elder sister.

Now, if ever those curiosities ever raised the expected question, an amused (or bemused, depending on the underlining connotation of such a personal inquiry) Lana would simply reply, quite calmly and amicably.

"_Miles and I had already decided to take our relationship slowly. Meanwhile, Ema met Klavier, and... Well, you know how the younger couples are nowadays. Thankfully, both of them have a great heads on their shoulders- and wonderful hearts besides. They are perfect for each other. Miles and I, on the other hand, have an amazing relationship- we simply waited longer than they did to tie the knot."_

A matter that was now a private, laughing matter between the families was the fact that, not too long ago, Lana Skye and Klavier Gavin had once hated each other. Lana had distrusted the ex-rockstar and what she called an "outlandish rookie" Prosecutor; and Klavier had hated the then First Lieutenant officer Skye; he had hated her "no-fun", too-formal attitude and her general brushing off of he and his accomplishments, despite his age and his position.

_"Mr. Gavin- shouldn't you wear something a little more professional in court?"_

_**"Nein, Fräulein Skye; when I rock the courtroom, I rock it hard- in style."**_

_"Rocking has no place in a court of law, Mr. Gavin."_

_**"Ach! Nonsense- that is like saying I myself- "**_

_"Frankly, it has no place anywhere in the professional world at all."_

As their hated for each other grew, as did the rift between Lana and Ema. Ema had, unintentionally, become caught between an agonizing decision: her sister, who had been a mother to her, or Klavier, the man she had come to realize was her soul-mate, her other half?... How could she choose between her only family and the man who had proposed to her?

In the end, she had not needed to decide- Klavier had decided for her, by breaking off their marriage, barely seventy-four hours into their engagement.

_**"I can't do this anymore, Ema. I won't be responsible for yet another tragedy."**_

"What are you- ? Klavier- !"

_**"I'm sorry, Ema. It's over."**_

"Please, don't do this."

_**"This is already done- it was before it begun. Good bye, Ema."**_

When the news reached Lana of the broken engagement, she had, ignoring Miles' protests and Ema's tearful pleas, confronted Klavier. The Prosecutor, however, turned the tables on her, calmly and quietly explaining himself, all the while preparing the last-minute details for a court case for that morning.

_**"Fräulein Skye... You and I have sought the same thing, through different methods."**_

_"What are you- ?"_

_**"Both of us have sought to protect Ema, throughout this entire ordeal- unfortunately, I failed, and you- "**_

_"You broke her heart, Gavin! She's an absolute wreck!"_

_**"A necessary evil, one that will pain me every single day. No one should have to make the choice between love and family, Fräulein. Having endured it for myself… I wouldn't wish that torture upon anyone."**_

_"...What are you talking about?"_

At this point in the conversation, Klavier had paused in his speech, gathering all his papers and needed materials for his case and placed them neatly into a leather binder, which then was placed into his signature guitar case. Lana never understood why he placed them there- such an odd, unprotected, unprofessional place for such important documents... She raised the expected question.

"_Why do you do that?"_

"_**What do you mean, Fräulein Skye?"**_

"_Why are you so different?"_

The question had simply slipped through her tongue before she could stop it.

Klavier's unexpectedly gentle, impassioned speech of an answer had since been engraved in her heart.

_**"This world is so full of black and white. Most can only be one or the other... One side or the other. This or that. Good or evil. We musicians, Fräulein, we see both. We experience both on a daily basis. We see both sides of one argument, of one opinion, and merge them with poetic sense, a soundboard, a few instruments, and our voices. We see two sides of one, we see this, and we see that, we see good, and we see evil. We see the grey in this world that most others ignore, that most others are afraid of..." **_

_**"...Prosecutors and Defense Attorneys are cut from the same cloth as musicians, Fräulein Skye. The only difference is how the world at large perceives one versus the other. One is childish, immature at times, with the occasional genius stroke of luck and muse. One is seen as a leader- an idol, if you will- he is the gatekeeper of the free world, the advocate of free speech, free opinion, a defender of justice and truth... And the other spends his or her time fiddling with an instrument..."**_

_**"...I choose to be both, Fräulein, because I can be. I want to be. I need to be. This is who I am, and absolutely no one can take this choice away from me. I know this is who I am meant to be... I am not looking for approval, not from you or from anyone else. I know who I am..."**_

_**"...And Ema fell in love with it- she fell in love with me. Her love is all I need as evidence, Fräulein Skye, to tell me that I am right, that I am exactly the kind of man that I want to be."**_

After seven years, Lana still remembered his speech, right down to that very last statement. She remembered apologizing to him, for everything she had said and done since the moment they had met, two weeks prior. He had accepted her apology gently, then, suddenly, introduced himself to her, as though they had never before met, extending his arm and his hand to shake hers.

_**"Fräulein Skye, a pleasure to meet you."**_

And Lana- professional, sharp, no-nonsense Lana Skye- had played along and gripped his hand inside of her own. Their firm handshake had melted away their strained relationship and replaced it with an unbreakable friendship, born of the simple understanding of one another.

_"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Gavin... And please. My name is Lana."_

_**"In that case, Lana... My name is Klavier."**_

**:: • :: | :: • ::**

The corridor leading to Klavier Gavin's office was an oddity in and of itself.

Distanced from the rest of the office by an entire hallway, it seemed a lonely island. The distance never seemed to bother Klavier, however- in fact, he seemed to enjoy it, almost relish that distance, using it to his advantage to install soundproof walls, several glass cases for his favorite guitars, a television set, and several other amenities that he otherwise may not have been able to install without suspicion in the first place.

Klavier also enjoyed the location of his tenth-story office for another, not-so-well known fact that very few people knew about, and even fewer could really appreciate; his bird's eye view of the entirety of downtown Los Angeles. From his height, he could see the entire business district; the Public Defenses' office, the police training academy, the District courtrooms, along with a variety of shops, restaurants and other small-businesses. The sight was beautifully breathtaking, inspiration for many a song of his.

The outside of his office was where Lana Skye and Miles Edgeworth found themselves, bright and early the morning after the celebration the night before, as a favor to a rather sleepy, amused Ema Skye, who had called the two just as they had finished their breakfast, to explain a rather normal situation.

"He's fallen asleep in the office again. He's not answering my calls."

"_Has he? We're on our way to the office anyway- we'll send him home to you, Ema."_

"Thanks, sis. We're still on for lunch at the usual place, right?"

"_Of course. I'll see you at one, Ema."_

"I don't understand why he doesn't take his work home with him," An amused Lana was saying to an equally-amused Miles, as they stopped in front of the door leading into the man's office, "It would save everyone involved a lot of trouble."

The ends of Miles' lips twitched upward in an easy smile. "That it would," He agreed, reaching for the door and turning the knob. To their surprise, it clicked, signaling that it had been locked. Miles allowed his hand to fall, as Lana, confusing flooding her expression, knocked on the door several times.

"Klavier?"

There was no cheerful, "Ja?" in response, nor was there the tell-tale, light snores of a certain, sleeping German Prosecutor.

"It's locked," Lana said unnecessarily, to which Miles agreed with a steady nod, "It's never locked."

A moment later, Miles' phone began to ring.

"Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth," Miles spoke into the receiver of his cell phone, sharply and directly. It seemed for his calm demeanor, a simple locked door had rattled him. He listened, and Lana watched in growing apprehension as his grey eyes slowly began to grow dark. He pulled the phone away from his ear and pressed a button, and said, "Chief Skye is beside me as we speak, Detective Gumshoe. Tell us what you found."

"Pal, it isn't pretty," Dick Gumshoe's voice floated through the phone almost instantly. "Somethin' weird is going on. We've got ourselves damage in the parking lot down here, and there's trace amounts of blood on the concrete. Somethin' went down last night, right under our noses, sir."

"Gumshoe," Lana interjected, feeling panic beginning to rear its' ugly head deep inside her stomach, "Is Prosecutor Gavin's purple motorcycle inside the parking lot?"

"Gavin?" There was a pause and a holler through the other end of the phone. Another holler answered the Detective back, and, just a few moments later, Gumshoe spoke again, his voice still calm despite the slight shake of Miles' hand. "No, that's not in here. And before you ask, Chief Skye, he hasn't been seen since he left the office yesterday afternoon. Why? What's going on up there?"

"Something is wrong, Detective," Miles swiftly replied, explaining to Gumshoe in under a minute exactly what had transpired last night and the undeniable fact that Klavier was not inside his office, "I need you to- "

"What's that you got there, pal? Gimme that! That's evidence!" A slight scuffle seemed to ensue between Gumshoe and another man at the scene of the crime, interrupting Miles and startling Lana even further. "Looks like a cell phone, pal... Hold on, there's a missed call. Maybe we'll find out who owns this phone this is if we call this number!"

Detective Gumshoe hung up his phone in his excitement, leaving Lana and Miles staring at it in stunned silence.

"Blood," Lana finally breathed, "Inside the parking lot."

"His motorcycle was his only mode of transportation last night, and it was not inside the parking lot," Miles reminded her quietly, calmly, despite the darkness in his stormy grey eyes. "In addition, that cell phone Detective Gumshoe found could belong to anyone. We can't assume the worst simply because of a locked door."

Lana bit her lip and glanced to the door in question. "We need to get inside, Miles."

"Neither of us have a key," Miles replied, sighing deeply in frustration, "What would you suggest, under these circumstances- that we break the door down?"

Lana threw him a sharp glare, but her expression changed as she processed his (albeit sarcastic) answer. Miles watched with growing apprehension as a flash of inspiration crossed her face, and, the moment he saw her steel herself and her normally warm eyes narrow, he found himself taking several steps backward, holding his hands out in the tell-tale signal for surrender.

"Lana," He began, almost nervously, "You can possibly be thinking of taking that suggestion serious- "

Miles was interrupted by a whoosh of air and a thunderous crack loud enough to cause a high- pitched ring in his ears and startle him enough to cause him to jump back a few paces. When he allowed himself to look up again, Lana was standing, shock-still, in the wreckage of what used to be Klavier Gavin's office.

Papers were everywhere, bits and pieces of glass littered the purple carpet, and his desk- a jet-black, expensive-looking stereo- was upturned and scratched. One of his glass guitar cases had been smashed, and his high-towered stack of old CD cases had been toppled. Somehow, his favorite office chair still stood within the mess, and over it, hung his signature purple jacket, unruffled and the only sense of normalcy given to the otherwise demolished and unrecognized office.

Miles stepped forward, passing a frozen Lana, and was stilled by a very slight scent that instantly invaded his senses. His stormy grey eyes instantly found the source of the scent- a spot, the size of thumbprint- indeed; it was a thumbprint, on closer inspection- on the broken guitar case. He felt his throat slowly constrict as he turned to face his wife and found he could not bring himself to speak.

Luckily, he did not have to, for at that moment, his cell phone began to ring again. Instead of answering it instantly, he placed the call on speakerphone, and only then did he answer, in an unintentional bark, "What is it?"

"Gee, pal," Detective Dick Gumshoe pouted, and both Miles and Lana could just imagine the downtrodden expression on his face, "You could be a little friendlier..."

Miles sighed deeply, and meanwhile, Lana spoke, strained, "We apologize, Detective. Things have become... Complicated." She explained what they had discovered in Klavier's office, and when she completed the short tale, Gumshoe had become his normal, clumsily helpful and enthusiastic self once again, if not a bit more fiery due to the tense circumstances.

"The parking lot's become a bit of a circus, sir. We've got not only a lock on the cell phone- but we've got a definite identification for the blood we found, and we've found a ripped red cloth! Not bad, huh, pal?"

Lana found herself flustered, which did not happen too often, much less around her simple, long-time subordinate. Miles took up the mantle in her stead, answering Gumshoe with a steady reply, "Detective Gumshoe, tell us everything you've found, in simplistic detail, please."

"Well, pal, the phone definitely belongs to Prosecutor Gavin, sir. The cloth before is red, some kind of jacket- but it matches nothing else we have so far. As for that missing motorcycle you asked for, we're stripping this place to the foundations and haven't found it. It's not here, pal."

"Then there is still a chance that Klavier made it out..." Lana was visibly fighting with herself to speak. Miles took a breath and spoke again.

"And the blood? You stated in your reported that the Forensics Department identified it upon your request. To whom did the blood belong, Detective?"

"Gavin, pal," Detective Gumshoe's voice was almost unbearably mournful, as though he had lost a dear friend, "Prosecutor Gavin. It's his blood, sir. If I had to guess, someone taller than him whacked him over the head with some kind of blunt object. The blood-spatter down here, I've seen it hundreds of times, pal- "

"Detective!" Lana interrupted Gumshoe with an uncharacteristic bark. Her voice was hard, yet surprisingly brittle with small cracks and breaks. "That's- all of that, it's just conjecture. Prosecutor Gavin- Klavier- I'm sure he's... Fine. He has to be okay..."

Gumshoe seemed to realize to whom exactly he was talking to. "I'm sure he's alright! I just thought- you said you wanted all the details of the crime, pal- " He immediately began to backtrack, in an obvious attempt to cover his behind from any possible repercussions. Miles, however, intent on sparing both the blubbering Detective and his wife unnecessary pain, intervened before Gumshoe could continue speaking.

"We need to stop theorizing," He instructed them sharply, his voice still as calm and his eyes as stormy as ever. "Instead, our priority now should be to piece together exactly what happened and to raise the alarm. Gumshoe, I am placing you in control of the initial investigation. I do not care if you must search every nook and cranny inside Los Angeles, you will find me that motorcycle. Do you understand me?"

"I won't let you down!" Gumshoe blazingly answered, "I promise I won't sleep or eat my noodles 'til I find Prosecutor Gavin's bike!"

"Very well, Detective. I expect hourly reports."

A clicking noise answered Miles, and he closed his phone in quiet appreciation and great expectance of his right-hand Detective. He closed the phone and looked up at Lana. "I am going to raise the alarm and declare a state of emergency while we piece the situation together. Meanwhile, Lana, I need you- "

"Ema," Lana interrupted him, her eyes losing that twinge of helplessness and returning to their normal, controlled calm. "I need to tell Ema. Their children- Zane and Alice... I need to tell Ema." The ends of Miles' lips twitched upward in what seemed a weak smile. He had seen right through her charade of calm, gently taking her hands in his own.

"Klavier," He told her, in a quiet, soothing voice, "Is strong. You and I both know this firsthand. He will be fine. I promise- no, I swear to you, Lana, we will find him, wherever he may be, we will bring him home safely, and the criminal who dared to kidnap one of our own will face justice."

**:: • :: | :: • ::**


End file.
